


Stress

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Background Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:11:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8224895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: "You’re young, you don’t know what stress is.”





	

"You’re young, you don’t know what stress is.”

Mickey scoffed again, thinking about those words that old geezer probably had cocked and ready to go before he’d even said anything. He didn’t genuinely care that Mickey looked visibly tired and was crumbling under some apparently imagined pressure. He just wanted to play the ‘we had it harder’ game.

Mickey looked out the window as the train made another stop. It was still raining. Had been all day. He’d forgotten his umbrella and had to duck into doorways to avoid being completely soaked. He was almost late to class trying to finish the three papers all due that week, and get a head start on his final presentation. Of course all the library printers were broken, so then it was a trip to Kinko’s for the lecture notes. The day hadn’t been terrible, just a lot of shit at once. But his school stuff wasn’t even his top priority, although it was definitely helping him get a legup at his job.

Mickey checked his watch. “Shit!” He would have to run to the pharmacy if he was going to make it in time. The train came to a stop and he was out of his seat and pushing at the doors before they even opened. He sprinted down the exit stairs and down the street, almost losing his footing twice. He dashed in front of a car and made a right at the next block. Water slapped his face and chilled him to the bone.

What did that guy know? What did he know about working to go to school to go to work? What did he know about balancing all that while keeping your bipolar fiance off the walls and out of the dumps? What the hell did he know about planning a wedding?

Mickey’s hand smacked into the door, flinging it open. He reached the counter, the familiar woman standing there with Ian’s pills packed in a white bag. She’d stopped being faced by him a while ago. He took the bag and nodded, giving them permission to lock up and close for the day.

On his way out, he grabbed a snickers bar for the rest of the walk home.


End file.
